


Ain't No Party Like a Citadel Party

by tsheps



Series: If- [6]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Citadel Party, Dildos, F/F, Jealousy, Let's get those CIC marines into this thing because they are totally into each other, Mass Effect 3: Citadel, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsheps/pseuds/tsheps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is coming to a swift end, the signs are all around.  After a failure on Thessia, the only thing left to do is hit Cerberus and then retake Earth.  </p>
<p>Well, only after throwing a killer party, that is.  Commander Kennedy Shepard makes it her mission at this party to get all of her friends laid one last time before the end of the world. </p>
<p>Warning- this is 100% PWP!</p>
<p>Part of my story 'If-'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jack and Miranda

**Author's Note:**

> So a few things about my version of the Citadel party are a little different from canon. First, Shepard invites ALL of her crew to my party. Chakwas, the marines in the CIC, the folks from engineering. You know- all the people who have been around the whole game and should get in on the fun! Also- I am choosing to completely ignore the books because I want to make up my own story for what happened with Kahlee Sanders and Anderson. My version gets Jack and Miranda back into bed, so I think that makes mine more fun. :) 
> 
> Oh, and since I am all about the ladies, I make reference to straight and gay relationships happening in the background but save the stories for the girls.

Jack checked her silent omnitool about a dozen times during the first hour of the party. She had only been away from her kids a handful of times since the war started and those Cerberus bastards had tried to kill them on Grissom.  And those times it was for official business, not to get wasted with Shepard and an apartment full of uptight do-gooders.  She cringed when she realized that she probably fit into that category herself now.  
  
She hadn't changed that much.  Sure- the clothes were comfortable.  And her new hair cut was totally hot.  And it was kinda nice to have a purpose instead of being so fucking angry all the time.  But still.  Same old Jack.  Whatever, the booze at this party was way better than she was used to.  
  
Jack leaned against the railing of Shepard's balcony and scanned the crowd.  The woman herself was standing in front of the pass through fireplace, her arm around the waist of that bitch marine they had met on Horizon.  The bitch was smiling and absentmindedly twirling a piece of Shepard's hair around her finger.  Jack had shaken her hand and scowled when they were introduced.  
  
"Yeah.  I remember you.  You were a total cunt to Shepard on Horizon.  Looks like she forgave you.  You must be a tiger in the sack."  
  
Truth was, Jack had just been keeping up appearances.  She had a reputation to uphold, but she knew Shepard was stupid in love with the chick.  The marine held her own though.  She blushed and looked pissed at first, then she smiled and said, "I can bench twice my bodyweight and run for 20 miles wearing a full pack of gear without breaking a sweat.  Trust me, she's begging for mercy by the time I'm done with her."  
  
Then she laid a kiss on Shepard that made Jack squirm, turned on her heel with a flash of dark hair, and strutted away.  It was pretty hot.  Okay, it was damn hot. Then fucking Shepard had to nudge her in the arm like they were brothers or some shit and say, "Reminds you a little of Miranda, huh? Little less uptight, though. Still, it’s fun to keep her in her place."  
  
Fucking Miranda Lawson.  Jack hadn't stopped thinking about her all damn night, and she was close to screaming in frustration.  They'd screwed a few times back during her Normandy days, but that had been ancient fucking history.  Until tonight.  Until Jack knew she'd see her saunter into this party with her skin tight suit and her amazing tits and her piercing eyes.  
  
Jack shook her head, trying to clear the images that were forming there.  She scanned the crowd again.  Jacob was talking to the prothean.  That dude being alive was just too damn weird to think about.  Over by the bar a Latino guy who made Grunt look like a dwarf was chatting to a guy whose mustache and goatee were too well trimmed for him to be straight.  They were talking to Zaeed, because apparently all the dudes at a party had to huddle up or something.  After a minute Shepard and the marine joined them and started making out again. Liara was on the other side of the living room, chatting up some young thing who was all hips and caramel colored skin.  Jack decided they were probably fucking.  She shrugged and glanced at the door again.  Of course the cheerleader would be fashionably late.  
  
She drank deeply from her glass, and felt the burn of alcohol soothing her nerves.  Tali and Garrus walked up to her and started some boring conversation about the old days and the Collectors.  At least it distracted her for a while.  By the time Jacob called them away for something, she felt less nervous.  Then she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and her stomach dropped.  
  
"Fancy meeting you here, convict."  
  
Jack felt a stirring in the bottom of her stomach that had nothing to do with the drinks she had been downing all night.  She turned slowly, and tried not to hold her breath when she saw Miranda.  She looked almost the same as Jack remembered her.  The same wavy dark hair that hung just below her shoulders.  The same icy eyes.  The same cream white skin. The same arrogant smirk.  The same massive rack inside the skin tight, form fitting fabric.  The color was different, jet black, and no fucking Cerberus crest on it.  The same infuriating way of standing, one hand on her hip that she cocked out just so you could see that she had a ridiculously nice ass.  What was different was the attitude.  It was still cocky, but the undercurrent of fear and self-loathing was gone.  She looked like she had finally shed the weight of the world from her shoulders.  
  
She didn't trust her voice, so she paused, staring petulantly.  She crossed her arms under her chest, trying to push her own breasts up and make them look bigger. She finally said, "Cheerleader.  Didn't think you'd show."  
  
"Someone told me you almost look like a respectable citizen these days.  You even wear a shirt.  I had to come see for myself.  Although the shirt was an exaggeration, I see.  Still, a jacket covers more than those straps you’re still wearing underneath."  
  
Jack raised one eyebrow and hooked her thumbs in the belt loops on the front of her pants, letting her palms fall near her crotch, "You know me.  I always come dressed for a party."  
  
Miranda caught her gasp almost in time for Jack to miss it, but not quite.  She put one long fingered hand to her throat and her lips parted just barely.  
  
"Jack!  Come with me, there's someone I want you to meet." Shepard had walked up behind Jack and laid an arm over the slim woman's shoulder.  She wore a goofy grin and smelled strongly of whiskey.  A year ago, Jack would have blasted her across the room for sneaking up behind her, but she had learned to calm that impulse while working with teenagers.  She flashed Miranda a wicked grin and allowed herself to be steered away by her old commander. 

Shepard sure made a good wingman.  Her timing could not have been better.  She pulled Jack away right when she had dropped that provocative little statement, and she had made Jack look cool and in demand at a party full of badasses. Jack knew Miranda would think about her when after she was gone. She had been able to make a suave exit.  
  
Shepard gave her a one armed hug and asked, "Tell me the truth, did you and Miranda ever... You know..."  
  
"You're drunk, Shep."  
  
Shepard pointed at her, her finger very close to Jack's face.  The hand she pointed with was holding her drink, and it sloshed dangerously close to the edge of the glass, but Shepard's speech was perfectly under control when she said, "Fuck yeah, I am.  But you didn't answer the question. Come on, I mean all that back and forth between you two is just sexual tension, right?"

“I need another drink.”  
  
Shepard led her to the curvy chick that Liara had been talking to earlier.  She introduced them, and Jack didn't bother to listen to the woman's name.  Apparently this woman had been the one who had gotten the intel about Cerberus attacking Grissom. That probably meant she owed the chick something. But Jack wasn’t much for gratitude. The bitch marine was taking Miranda on a tour of the apartment. Jack noticed her shoot an appraising look over at their group. She was definitely still thinking about her. This was gonna be a good night. Liara was still there with the woman Shepard wanted her to meet.  Jack decided to find out what the fuck was up between them, so she started flirting shamelessly with Curves.  
  
Jack got her answer when Curves didn't respond to her flirting at all and Liara started to get pissed off.  Leave it to Blue to not notice that the chick had no interest. She hadn’t pegged Liara as the jealous type, but then they barely knew each other. As a bonus, Shepard was giggling at the whole scene and Miranda, who had wandered over, looked like she was ready to rip someone apart.  Too soon, the marine pulled Shepard away to a nearby couch and Liara stalked off in huff.  Curves chased after her like a puppy on a leash.  
  
"You're pathetic, Jack." Miranda hissed when they were alone.  
  
Jack leaned casually against the wall and hooked one of her thumbs in the center of the waistband of her pants.  Miranda's eyes followed the movement and Jack said, "I'm a damn saint!  Liara's gonna fuck her eyeballs out tonight.  Who knew she was the jealous type?  I did them a favor."  
  
Miranda rolled her eyes, but didn't walk away.  She stood there, casting an admiring eye over Jack's form, and the tattooed woman felt her whole body glow with warmth and confidence.  She adopted an overly casual tone when she said, "I heard one hell of a rumor at Grissom."  
  
"I'm not much for gossip, Jack."  
  
"No? Well, you get pretty fucking curious when it comes to intel.  How 'bout we call it that?"  
  
Miranda shrugged and took a step or two closer to Jack, "I suppose there's no way I can stop you from talking, so you may as well tell me."  
  
Jack smiled and put her boot up on the wall behind her, leaving a black smudge that Shepard could never identify or completely clean, "My boss there, Kahlee Sanders.  She told me about how those fuckers at Cerberus were after her.  Then some mole started sending shit to Councilor Anderson, telling him everything that was up.  So he was able to save her ass.  Gave up his spot on the Council ‘cause of it. Then that same person passed on some info about some fucked up biotic bitch who was a little scary and shit, but could maybe help those kids.  So she found me and got me a pardon and shit and now I spend my nights grading papers instead of getting wasted and laid in the galaxy's worst shit holes."  
  
Miranda was looking studiously uninterested.  When Jack finished, she merely shrugged and said, "So why are you telling me this, convict?"  
  
Jack stood away from the wall and took a step towards Miranda, her gazed fixed on those eyes that haunted her and said, "Because I think that spy in Cerberus was you, cheerleader.  I think you saved Kahlee's life and I think you got me that job." She was only inches from Miranda now, close enough to hear her breathing over the pulse of the music and close enough to smell the flowery shit she used in her hair. "And that would mean that you think I'm worth a damn in this fucked up world.  It means you believe in me and shit, and, with Shepard, that makes two fucking people in my whole damn life that have thought... I don't know, that I have some fucking value."  
  
Miranda sounded slightly breathless she replied, "That's some vivid imagination you have, Jack."  
  
Jack showed all of her teeth in a predatory smile and said, "You got no fucking idea, princess." Then her look shifted to something infinitely more serious and she said, "Point is, me and my vivid imagination think you're a pretty fuckin' cool chick."  
  
Miranda was about to lean in and close the distance between their mouths, when a shout from the couch where Shepard was sitting distracted Jack.  She turned her head, a crease between her eyebrows, to see what was going on.  There were too many people crowded around the couch for her to see, and she belatedly realized that she didn't really give a fuck what was going on.  She turned back to Miranda, only to find her gone.  
  
She was halfway across the room, and walking quickly but seductively toward a hallway near the door.  
  
"What the fuck?" Jack said loud enough for the prothean to turn around and give her the bug eye.  
  
Miranda turned her head and made eye contact with Jack.  She gave a half smile and a slight nod of her head down the hallway before disappearing in that direction herself.  Jack waited a few minutes, not wanting to look too eager.  Then she followed.  
  
At the end of the hallway was a closed door that she sincerely hoped led to a bedroom.  Unfortunately, the huge Latino guy was making his way towards it, his tight t-shirt pulled up slightly in the front.  He stopped at the door and tried to open it, but it was locked.  
  
"What the hell?  This room was totally open earlier!"  
  
Jack noticed that the air around his exposed abs was shimmering suspiciously.  
  
"Sorry, big guy.  The prize behind door number one is for me."  
  
He turned to look at Jack and the large bulge in his pants caught her eye.  
  
Jack gave him a disgusted look and said, "Jesus! Look, there's a big ass walk in closet back down the hall, take your boy toy in there, Kasumi.  And hurry before he puts someone's eye out with that thing."  
  
The shimmering air giggled familiarly and the big guy was pulled forward by thin air.  Once they had disappeared, Jack took a deep breath, adjusted her jacket on her shoulders, and tried the door.  As she suspected, it opened for her immediately.  
  
Shepard's spare bedroom was bigger than every place Jack had ever lived in combined.  The bed was enormous and covered in soft looking sheets. It was also occupied.  
  
Miranda had one leg stretched it in front of her, the other knee was bent.  She was holding herself up against about a hundred pillows with her arms straight behind her.  The position pushed her chest forward in a mind emptying way.  She was wearing nothing except a lacy black thong.  Her smile could have melted butter.  
  
Jack was determined to play it cool, so she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms, and allowing the scene to wash over her.  She raised an eyebrow and said, "I have another little bit of intel to share."  
  
Miranda purred, "Do you?"  
  
Jack pulled her jacket slowly off of her shoulders as she spoke, "Sure do.  See, not long after I got Shep's invite, I got a package delivered to me."  
  
Miranda made noises of approval and appreciation as Jack pulled off the straps of her top dropping them on the floor, exposing her naked breasts.  She started to unbutton her pants as she continued, "There was a note.  It said 'Why don't you wear this to the party?' Thought it was from Shep at first, then I saw what was inside."  
  
Miranda squirmed as Jack started to unzip her pants, one tooth at a time, "And what exactly was inside, convict?"  
  
"Why don't you come over here and take it out for a good look, cheerleader?"  
  
Miranda was ready for the invitation, had been waiting for it all night.  She moved to her knees and crawled on all fours across the bed, eyes locked on Jack's.  When she got to the edge of the bed, she slid off and padded across the carpet with light steps.  While she was walking over, Jack pulled up her omnitool and typed a few commands.  The front of her pants bulged out just as Miranda got there to stuff her hand down them.  She knew what she would find, having sent the package herself.  
  
The newest model of fully customizable OmniDildo.  When not engaged, it was simply a padded pair of underwear available in any style and size.  Miranda knew Jack's taste and picked a short legged pair of boy shorts in plain black.  Once the proper commands were sent from the wearer's omnitool, however, a sensation transmitting dildo in that omnipresent glowing orange would appear.  It was just like any other omni device, feeling and acting like a physical object with the convenient ability to disintegrate and disappear when not needed.  It was wildly expensive, and Miranda had gladly shelled out the credits to fulfill this fantasy with Jack.  
  
She grasped the shaft and the two women groaned in unison.  The interface was far superior to the toy they had used before, all of Jack's skin prickled at Miranda's touch on her.  Jack leaned forward and sank her teeth into the base of Miranda's neck.  She moaned and threw her head back.  She said, her accented voice hoarse with desire, "God I've missed you, Jack."  
  
"Why don't you show me how much?"  
  
Miranda's eyes flashed with excitement.  She pulled Jack into a fiery kiss, and slid her mouth down the tattooed body until she was on her knees.  She let Jack’s heavy pants drop, exposing the glowing orange member.  Jack watched her move, her eyes glazed with need.  She had played with her new toy once or twice since receiving it.  She had wanted to find the exact length and girth Miranda would want, and she set it to slightly larger than that, just for old time’s sake.  She knew it was sensitive, but there was nothing she could have done to prepare for this.  
  
When Miranda's warm, full lips touched the tip of her new extension, she was sure she'd come undone that very moment.  She screamed as the wetness of her mouth evolved her.  Miranda's lips moved back and forth along her and she desperately tried to cling to any thought that would delay the moment of her release.  Miranda’s tongue flicked out, teasing her tip, then she wrapped her full lips around Jack again and pumped with her mouth. Jack groped for anything that would keep her together for even a moment.  
  
Miranda released her and looked up saying, "Let go, Jack.  God, it's been so bloody long, come for me."  
  
Jack realized with a start that it had been a long time.  The last person she’d been with was Miranda, and it had been almost a year.  Then Miranda's mouth was on her again and she gave her what she wanted. Jack's orgasm came fast and hard, and she bent over, her stomach muscles clenching as she screamed and swore.  Miranda caressed her through it, and then stood and pressed their bodies together, kissing Jack fiercely.  She felt like an animal, tearing at Jack with clawed fingers and bared teeth, desperate to share in the ecstasy.  Jack pushed her away and held her, panting, at arm's length.  
  
"On the..." Her voice was hoarse from shouting.  She cleared it and tried again. "On the bed. Now."  
  
Miranda hurried over to the plush mattress, removed her thong, and perched on the end of the bed on all fours.  It wasn't exactly what Jack had had in mind, but her core ached at the sight.  She forced herself to walk, not run, across the room.  When she reached Miranda, she laid a tattooed hand on her voluptuous ass, and smacked it just hard enough to earn a yelp from the other woman.  
  
He shivered at the sight of Miranda's swollen, dripping folds.  She slid her hand down and dipped a finger inside as she said, "Nice view, cheerleader.  You better be careful.  The more worked up I get, the less gentle I am."  
  
Jacks finger moved up and swirled lazily around her clit, causing Miranda to moan and say, "I don't come to you for gentle, convict.  Now fuck me, goddammit."  
  
Jack aligned herself with Miranda's opening and said, "Naughty bitch.  You didn't say please."  
  
Miranda punched the mattress in frustration, her body aching, and yelled, "Dammit, Jack, fuck me PLEASE!"  
  
The minute her mouth wrapped around the word, Jack surged forward.  She buried half the length in her with one, harsh thrust before moderating her pace. Miranda groaned and swore and rocked back into Jack, trying to get more. If Jack hadn't already had some relief that moment would have made her come unglued. She had barely gotten all the way inside before she started a torturous pace.  Miranda matched it and even encouraged her to speed up. They rocked together and called each other’s names and they forgot the Reapers and the destruction and the fear.  They emptied their fears and their frustrations into each other’s bodies.  Then Miranda was shouting and Jack thought of fire ants just so that she wouldn't feel Miranda's walls pulsing around her.  
  
She kept her rhythm, and, when Miranda started to moan and buck, Jack thought about whether Miranda would be the only person she ever slept with after this.  She was trying to scare herself so that she could get just one more out of the woman.  Somehow, she didn't find the thought scary enough.  As soon as Miranda’s cried died down, she made herself stop and pull out.  Miranda whimpered deliciously, but the cold air on her shaft finally brought her back from the brink.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Lay on your back."  
  
"On my back?"  
  
"Did I stutter, bitch? Lay on your back or I can just zip up and go home."  
  
Miranda scrambled to obey.  Her confusion was understandable.  She had asked more than once to do it missionary style, and Jack had refused.   
  
‘That shit's too vanilla.  Besides, it’s like fucking hugging, and I don't fucking hug, okay?’

She knew what Miranda had been looking for at the time. She had wanted validation. They had started as casual fuck buddies. They would hook up every couple of days or so. Nothing regular, and no strings attached, no definitions. It worked for Jack. It was what she wanted. She didn’t want anything more. Soon, though, Miranda went all ‘girl’ on her and wanted to cuddle and shit. I mean, how do you cuddle with someone you just rode that hard? How do you cuddle with someone you call a bitch?   
  
Well, maybe things had changed for her. Maybe she wanted to do something nice for the woman.  Besides, she was fucking tired and she needed to get off her damn feet.  Miranda lay back with her head on one of the pillows.  Something about how sweaty and unsure she was like that softened Jack just enough to be slow and gentle when she lowered herself onto her.  Miranda's hand went between their bodies to guide Jack into her, and Jack found herself not wanting to break eye contact.  She even went slow at first, and soaked up all the soft sounds Miranda was making.  Their bodies didn't slam into each other, it was like ... They were dancing together.  It got to be too much, and soon Jack had her head down, grinding into Miranda and cursing and then they were both screaming and panting and Miranda's nails left gouges in her back.  
  
When the aftershocks were done, Jack pulled out and lay beside Miranda, half her body on the bed, half on top of the sweaty body beside her.  Miranda tried to run her fingers through Jacks hair, but she was still fucking Jack, and she swatted the woman's hand away.  So they lay still, panting. 

After a long, comfortable silence, when there was just a little chance that Miranda had fallen asleep, Jack said, "Look... Don't... Don't fucking let Shepard get you killed, okay?  I'd ... I'd miss fucking you and... And stuff."  
  
There was a pause before Miranda replied, "I believe those terms are acceptable.  As long as you agree to them as well."


	2. Westmoreland and Campbell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little love for the marines....

Private Bethany Westmoreland wasn’t the best with big crowds. She never knew what to say or who to look at. She never knew if people were just humoring her or really enjoyed her company. This big crowd was so much worse than usual. Everywhere she looked she saw a living legend. Beyond the fact that she was in the apartment of The Commander Kennedy Shepard, there was Lieutenant Commander Williams. They were both Spectres! Then there was Dr. Liara T’soni, one bad ass biotic with ice in her veins. Garrus Vakarian, turian army unto himself. A living prothean. A quarian admiral. An asari justicar. Hell, even the de facto leader of the krogan was here. And somehow she had wandered into the kitchen and was standing in a group of all of them.

She didn’t even know how she got invited to this thing. She was used to standing in a dark hallway with a body scanner and chatting with Campbell all day. This group was way out of her league. She looked around and saw Campbell chatting easily with the ex-Cerberus guy they picked up with a group of scientists a few weeks back. The sight of Sarah made her feel better and worse all at the same time.

They had become close quickly. You had to, really, when you spent all day in a small space with one other person. They chatted easily about everything under the sun, and they laughed more than she thought possible during a war that could end civilization as they knew it. The problem was that Sarah was hot. Like smoking hot. Like forget the sentence you were right in the middle of because you got lost trying to tell if the flecks in her caramel brown eyes were emerald green or sea glass green hot. Bethany had hoped her crush would fade as time went by and they got used to each other’s company. It hadn’t. It had gotten worse. A thousand million times worse and now Bethany was full-on, head over heels, truly madly deeply in love.

“Westmoreland? You still with us?”

“Huh?” She spun around, tearing her eyes from Campbell and realizing with horror that the hum of conversation around her had stopped.    

Shepard smiled warmly and shot a quick look to Ashley before she said, “We were talking about where we grew up. I’m a spacer, myself. Grew up on one Alliance ship or another. Ash was a colony kid. How about you?”

Bethany adjusted the grip on her lukewarm beer bottle and cleared her throat, “Uh… colony. I’m from the colonies.”

The chatter moved on, both of the asari saying they were born on Thessia. Garrus laughed about how the three of them were the only home worlders in the group. Bethany breathed a little easier with the attention off of her. Embarrassment flooded her when she thought about how they had caught her not paying attention. No wonder she wasn’t good at parties. When the prothean started babbling about God knows what at length, she found her chance to slip away from the group. The thought entered her head that she should go talk to Campbell. That would make her feel more at ease.

The ex-Cerberus guy had wandered off, and now Sarah was talking to James. He was grinning and leaning towards her in a way that made Bethany want to kick his teeth in. She had absolutely no chance of even splitting his lip, even if she dropped on him from the balcony, but still. He was totally flirting with Campbell. Saying something in Spanish that probably made Sarah want to hang from his biceps. She tried to push aside her jealousy and be cool. Suave.

“Hey, Campbell.” She said, walking up to the group. James looked at her like she had three heads and he was going to knock every one of them off. Sarah just blinked at her. “So… uh… I hear all the Cerberus people are Alliance Cat Sixes.”

“Uh… yeah. We talked about that the other day.”

James said something and Sarah turned back to him. The thought entered Bethany’s head that it would be really nice to learn how to do that tactical cloak thing. At this moment she wished for nothing more than to disappear and slink off alone. She was determined to redeem herself.

“Yeah! I know!” For some reason she found herself nearly shouting. Her attempt at a cheery tone had taken a bad swerve and was entering the realm of creepy. “I can’t believe anyone who wasn’t crazy would sign up with them anyway!”

James gave her an odd look and then wandered off to the sound of her forced laughter. Sarah turned to her and looked very much like she doubted Bethany’s own mental state, “What’s the deal, Westmoreland? You drunk or something? Why are you acting so weird?”

“Weird? Am I being weird? I just thought we could… chat. Ya know?”

Everything was going so badly. She heard herself talking and cringed. Bethany drank deeply from her beer and nearly choked on it.

“Uh… we chat every day. This is a chance to talk to other people. You know some of the folks here have been out there- in the war- it’s cool to hear what they have to say.”

She gave Bethany a strained smile and walked away to the bar. Bethany’s stomach churned with humiliation. It was bad enough that Sarah thought she was weird and boring and not worth talking to, but she couldn’t help but see that last part as a dig at her. The others were out in the war. Fighting while she, Bethany, guarded a damn door. What had she thought? That Sarah would want to jump her bones because her ability to operate a body scanner was so damn sexy? She drained her beer and was turning to go get a new one when she nearly slammed into Shepard.

“Oh! Commander!” Shepard bent quickly and caught the beer she was carrying. Only a little spilled on her hand. “Shit! I’m so sorry!”

Shepard laughed and handed the damp bottle to her, “No worries, Private. I was bringing that to you anyway.” She wiped her hand on her pants and held her own bottle up. “Cheers!”

Bethany’s response was weak, “Cheers.”

As they both drank, Shepard gave her a look that seemed to read her down to her DNA. She took the bottle from her lips and leaned against the wall, “What’s on your mind, Private?”

“Wha… nothing, ma’am.”

Bethany looked at her toes. The commander was wearing her normal uniform, the boots were scuffed. The dirt of a hundred planets seemed to be ground into the leather despite the fact that they were cleaned and polished to military standards. Westmoreland looked at her own boots. Not a line of wear, not a single worn edge. They could have come right off the shelves at the PX. The sight depressed her in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Her own sense of worthlessness threatened to overwhelm her.

“You know that it is a violation of Alliance code to lie to your commanding officer?”

Shepard had a way with people. She said things that just made you want to confide in her, and Bethany didn’t have that in life. Hadn’t had it in so many years she barely remembered what it felt like. She found herself willing to tell the commander all of her inner most secrets, “I… I want to be part of the assault team when we go to Earth, ma’am.”

While Shepard was rarely shocked, it was clear this was not what she had thought Bethany would say, “You want to be part of the assault team?”

The audacity of the request suddenly hit Bethany, and she tried to explain, “Not your squad, ma’am. I know I’m not qualified to… I just want to get in on the fight. Maybe one of the support teams? Hell, throw me on the front line with the rest of the grunts. Just… don’t make me stay behind? I’m a good shot! And I have extensive training in tactical assault and…”

Shepard raised a hand and stood straight again, her face full of concern, “Whoa! Slow down, Private. I’m sure you can handle yourself in a combat situation. I have no doubt you’d be an asset on the ground, but you have a job to do here.”

Bethany couldn’t help herself from making a sarcastic sound into her beer bottle. She drank deeply and then said, “Yeah right. Nothing says essential to the war effort like balls watch over a goddamn door.” She looked up in horror at her own boldness and quickly added, “Ma’am.”

Shepard just laughed, “You aren’t exactly on ‘balls watch’, Private, but I get what you’re saying.” She cut her eyes over at where Campbell was standing at the bar with Joker and James. “This sudden need to get your hands dirty wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain marine getting chatted up by Vega, would it?”

“No, ma’am!” She blushed when Shepard raised an eyebrow at her and continued. “Maybe. But I still need to do something, ma’am. I… I owe it to my family.”

Shepard put her hand on Bethany’s arm, “You lose your family?”

“Yeah. Not to the Reapers, though.” She started peeling the label on her beer bottle. She had never actually talked about this before, but something told her it was time. “You know how I said I grew up on a colony? The colony was Mindoir.”

Shepard dropped her hand and said quietly, “Damn, Private.”

“Yeah.” A piece of paper from the label fell from her hands. It was white on one side and a shiny bronze on the other. She watched as it floated to the floor, flipping between white and bronze, white and bronze. “I wasn’t there. I joined up just before the slavers showed. You know how they ship you to a hotel the night before they take you to Basic? Make sure you don’t get last minute cold feet I guess. Make sure you don’t miss your flight. Well, Mindoir didn’t have a hotel, so they sent all the kids from a few nearby colonies to a station not far away. I packed my bags and said goodbye to my family and got on a shuttle for this hotel. They checked us in at 1830, and we shipped to Basic the next morning at 0600. The batarians landed at 0800. Me and Rodney Stallworth were the only living people from Mindoir by the time we landed on Earth. He scrubbed out within a week. Couldn’t take the guilt. He became a merc to pay for his booze habit and was dead before he turned 20. Now it’s just me.”

There was a long silence between them. The music sounded a long way off. Bethany forgot all about Sarah and James and her embarrassment from earlier. After a few minutes she said, “So, you see, I lived to become a marine. I survived and they died and the only reason was so that I could defend the Alliance. I just can’t justify that sacrifice to do a body scan on you every time you go chat with the rest of the crew. I feel like… like they deserve more than that from me, ma’am.”

Sarah was looking at her, but she barely noticed. Shepard held out a hand to her, and she shook it numbly, “Welcome to the ground team, Private Westmoreland.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

When she would have taken her hand away, Shepard squeezed it harder to keep her there. She raised her eyes to look into the other woman’s. There was the same strength and compassion as always, but now there was something else, too. It wasn’t the pity that Bethany had always dreaded seeing. The pity that was the reason she never told this story. If she had to name it, she would say it was admiration, but that couldn’t be right. This was Commander Shepard, after all. There was no one who had ever lived that had done anything to deserve her admiration, hero as she was, and most certainly not Bethany, “Listen to me, Private. You show yourself out there, but don’t you use me to make yourself a martyr, you hear me? This world has had enough martyrs. You fight like hell and you live or you die for the right reason. You’ve got nothing to prove, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am. I hear you, ma’am.”

Shepard looked skeptical and nodded, “When we get back on the ship, report to Garrus. He’ll most likely be the one I put in charge of the support team. He was when we went after the Collectors, and he probably will be again.” She turned to go, then thought better of it and said. “I’ll still need a guard for the CIC. Private Campbell will have to stay on board ship. You got anything you want to say to her, may want to do it soon. Enjoy the rest of your night, Private Westmoreland.”

She nodded and almost saluted, but Shepard moved off toward LC Williams. It probably would have been an awkward thing to do here anyway. She reached Williams, slipped an arm around her waist and started talking to her in a low voice. Bethany watched the way her fingertips caressed the fabric of Williams’s jacket at her lower back. It made her heart ache with jealously. She looked back to where Sarah was at the bar, and saw that she had moved off to one side, chatting with the prothean. Vega was leaning in on a slight Asian woman wearing a hood that Shepard had been talking to not long before. He sure got around.

Her eyes moved back to Sarah. She was so at ease, talking to everyone. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world. She certainly wasn’t nursing gut wrenching unrequited love for an untouchable fantasy. She wasn’t carrying around the ghosts of her family. She wasn’t battling crippling insecurities. She was… she was perfect. She was happy. She was smart and funny and brave. She drank gallons of coffee and never went to the gym and she had a dimple in her left cheek when she smiled but not in her right. She grew up on a farm in Virginia and has two sisters and three cats and went to a high school whose mascot was an orange wearing a baseball cap. When she thinks she’s alone in the women’s bathroom she sings in the shower, but half the crew has heard her do it and she is going to live through this war. She will stand by that door while the Normandy drops off all the ground fighters and not everyone will come back, but she will still be there, safe and perfect by that fucking door. Williams had slipped over to the bar and was chatting casually with her.

Bethany needed fresh air. She felt like she was going to suffocate in this huge open living room full of people she saw every day but didn’t know. She walked with a purpose to the kitchen and grabbed four beers between the fingers of the hand that wasn’t holding her half empty one. She skirted around groups laughing. She walked down a hall where Engineer Adams was making out with Gabby. She turned a corner and nearly ran into Donnelly, who had his hand buried down the front of Cortez’s pants. Cortez’s eyes were rolled up in his head and Donnelly was too intent on what he was doing to notice her. She slipped past them to a door leading to a spiral staircase. At the top of the spiral staircase was the door leading to the roof patio. Very few people knew it was here, but Shepard had mentioned it to her when she gave Bethany and Sarah the tour earlier.

The patio was not that big. Just a few square feet of wooden decking, a few potted plants, and a pair of reclining deck chairs. Bethany made for one of the chairs and sat. She put the unopened beers on the deck beside her and drained her open bottle. She set it down carefully before sitting back, her legs outstretched, and looking up at the sky.

‘Looking up’ on the Citadel was something of an odd sight. Instead of the miles of wide open sky dotted with stars that she expected, she was met with the dimly lit shapes of faraway buildings on other arms of the station. The sight was so jarring that it instantly relaxed her. She breathed out a long breath and cracked open a beer. She didn’t raise her head as she brought the cold bottle to her lips and drank deep. The tension flowed out of her and she started laughing almost before she finished swallowing.

“What the fuck, Westmoreland?”

Campbell was closing the door to the roof, a look of anger on her face and a half full glass of something green and toxic looking dangling from her hand. The utter calm that had stolen over Bethany when she looked up at the Citadel ‘sky’ could not be broken even by the enraged look on Sarah’s face. Especially because she was so fucking hot when she was pissed off. Bethany just adopted a goofy grin and took a long pull from her beer. Disappointed in her hope for a guilty reaction, Campbell strode over to the chair where she was sitting. She glanced at the empty chair for a nanosecond, but kicked Bethany’s feet instead. She was too surprised to do anything but move them out of the way, bending her knees so her boots hit the ground on either side of the wooden slats.

Sarah swung her leg over the end of the chair and sat down, straddling the frame. She hunched slightly, elbows on her knees and fixed a hostile glare on Bethany. The marine was finally shaken from her impassivity. She swallowed hard and tried not to be too distracted by the fire in those eyes.

“Wha-what?”

“Don’t you fucking ‘what’ me! You volunteered for the ground team when we assault Earth!”

She tried her best to look defiant when she replied, “Yeah. Of course I did. I’m an Alliance marine. I want to fight! I want to be out there. _In the war_.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped at the emphasis she had put on the last sentence, “Are you serious? Is this about what I said when you came up and scared Vega off?”

Bethany’s stomach soured at the memory of the big brute hitting on Sarah, “Yeah, well, sorry to ruin your chance to ride him all night. Why don’t you run off and try to get him in a corner? That seems to be the thing tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Sarah! He was all over you and you weren’t exactly pushing him away.”

Sarah put her glass down on the slats of the chair and started spinning it. She tried to act casual, but the move was clearly to cover her discomfort, “Well, you can’t get a word out of Vega unless you let him flirt with you. Even the Commander puts up with it and she is CLEARLY not interested. Besides, you hang out with him all the time and talk about how great he is!”

Everything she had said was true, but somehow it was totally different to her when Vega was flirting with her and when he was flirting with Sarah, “Yeah, well… I mean we only talk about guns! He has this yen for shotguns and I am terrible with ‘em. So he’s helping me out so I don’t flunk my next weapons exam.”

“And you don’t think he’s even a little bit cute?”

Bethany flopped back against the chair and threw her hands in the air in surrender, “Well, yeah! I mean, come on, can you blame me? I’m into muscular guys and soft chicks, is that so surprising for a bi marine?”

If she hadn’t been looking up at the twinkle of lights from the other wards, Bethany might have seen the look of shock flash on Sarah’s face. When she looked back Sarah had schooled her features back to anger, “So that’s why you’ve been acting weird tonight? You thought I wanted to hop in the sack with Vega and you were jealous? Not exactly the best reason to volunteer to be cannon fodder, Westmoreland. You can have him. Go tell Shepard you changed your mind.”

“I don’t want him you stupid asshole.” She drained her beer and swapped the empty bottle for a full one. “And I haven’t changed my mind. I’m going to fight the Reapers. Besides, how did you know?”

“Lieutenant Commander Williams told me. She thought I would want to know since we’re friends and she was worried you were doing it for the wrong reasons. Which you are. Getting yourself killed by the Reapers won’t bring your family back. It won’t bring anyone from Mindoir back.”

Bethany’s face went numb. She tried not to look into Sarah’s eyes, but they seemed to be the only thing that existed in the universe. The anger had flooded out of them to be replaced by a sadness tinged with pity. She curled her lip and said, “Fuck you. You don’t know me. Don’t you fucking pity me, Campbell! I cannot believe Williams told you about Mindoir.”

Bethany tried to get up and walk away from everything. She was sure that if she moved the faces swirling in front of her eyes would evaporate and the sound of her mother’s laughter would be carried away on the wind. Sarah grabbed her knee and pushed it roughly back down, her teeth knocked painfully together as she was forced back into her seat.

“The LC didn’t tell me about Mindoir. I don’t think she knows. I found out a long time ago.”

Bethany was confused, and the alcohol seemed to have solidified in her blood when Sarah’s hand slipped accidentally from her knee to the top of her thigh. Time seemed to swirl oddly and there was a buzzing in her ears. Sarah grabbed her drink from the chair with her free hand and took a large gulp. A blush had crept over her cheeks.

“We talk about everything. I mean, shit, what else are we supposed to do, right? And I told you all about growing up on Earth and my family and stuff. You just said you were from a colony and left it at that. You wouldn’t tell me much about yourself, so…” She toyed with the edge of her glass and glanced quickly up at Bethany’s face and then off to a potted plant nearby. “So I pulled your records. It just said you had no next of kin and place of birth Mindoir Colony. I didn’t know the story… I should have, I guess, but… So I looked it up on the extranet and was able to piece it all together.”

Bethany just stared at her. She was hyper aware of her thigh and the warmth of Sarah’s hand on it. Every time Sarah breathed he hand moved a fraction. Sometimes the fingertips would move farther away, sometimes they would slip on the fabric of her fatigue pants and move further down Bethany’s thigh. Her mouth became very dry.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… spied on you.”

Her voice was so thin it nearly died in the night when she asked, “Why did you?”

Sarah looked at her again and the blush deepened. She didn’t say a word, but something about the look and the blush finally gave Bethany the courage to act. Before she could convince herself it was a bad idea, before she could doubt or talk herself out of it for the millionth time, she moved. Her hand went to the back of Sarah’s neck right at her hairline. Her finger tips slid into the impossibly close cut hair and her thumb stopped when she felt the edge of Sarah’s ear. She leaned in fast and pressed their lips together. Sarah’s lips were slightly tacky with the stickiness of whatever alcohol was in the glass. Bethany could taste the sweetness and the bite of it even though her lips were closed. Sarah sucked in air through her nose with surprise when their faces came together. Bethany could feel the rush of it pass by her cheek.

After a moment made heavy by lust and alcohol, Sarah parted her lips and Bethany felt her tongue slip out of her mouth. Her eyes shot open in surprise. She had honestly thought this would end with a gentle press on her shoulder and an embarrassed refusal. She had thought Sarah would stand up and hurry from the roof leaving her alone with a couple of beers and a mountain of humiliation and regret. Feeling Sarah’s tongue against her lips was the last thing she had expected, but she rallied and opened her mouth to accept the deepening of the kiss. Sarah did not hesitate, she shot her tongue into Bethany’s mouth and claimed it. She sat up straighter, moving their bodies closer together. Her hand slid down Bethany’s thigh with no doubt of its intent this time.

Unfortunately, she had forgotten the drink in her hand. When she reached out for Bethany’s face, the glass dropped from her palm and landed hard on the other woman’s knee. Thick green alcohol splashed down her leg and into her lap. The glass hit her knee right on edge and directly in the spot that makes a person’s leg go numb.

“Ouch!”

“Oh shit! I’m sorry B!”

“Fuck that hurt!”

Sarah’s hand went to her mouth as she laughed. She had a habit of doing that, covering her smile with her fingertips. It made Bethany’s heart skip a beat to see it. Sarah rubbed at the wet spot on the thigh of her fatigues, “I’m sorry! You’re going to smell like ryncol for days!”

Bethany’s eyebrows shot up, impressed, “You were drinking ryncol? Damn. That’s hot.”

“I hope that doesn’t disqualify me from being a ‘soft girl’.”

Bethany grinned and grabbed Sarah under both knees. She pulled the marine forward so that Sarah’s legs were on top of her own and their bodies were pressed together, “I think I can make an exception.”

Sarah pushed forward, slamming their lips back together and pushing Bethany back against the half recline of the chair. As she kissed her friend hungrily, she pushed her hips forward, grinding against the woman beneath her and causing them both to groan. Bethany pulled the hem of Sarah’s uniform shirt free from her pants and slid one hand up under the shirt to cup the other woman’s breast. She could feel Sarah’s nipple harden through the lightly padded cotton as she squeezed eagerly. Sarah groaned and pushed her hips forward again. A sharp pang of desire hit Bethany between her legs at the movement. She slipped her fingers beneath the edge of Sarah’s bra and pinched her nipple between two delicate fingers.

Sarah pulled away from the kiss, dropping her head back and moaning into the night. She pushed her hips forward eagerly and Bethany tried desperately to not let the movement start her body quivering. She had dreamt of this moment so long, wanted Sarah so much. The mere fact of the woman being in her lap was drawing her closer to the edge every second. Sarah’s hips rocked again and Bethany mover her hips away from the motion.

Sarah looked down at her in confusion, “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted this?”

“I do. I just…” Something in the other woman’s tone sent up warning flags. She gripped Sarah’s hips and set her back down on the chair with a thud. “You know I’ve wanted this. Since when did you want it?”

Sarah’s eyebrows knitted together. She said, nonplussed, “Why do you think I don’t?”

“Are you just doing this so I don’t go with Shepard? Or because of Mindoir? I swear to God, Sarah, if this is a pity fuck…”

“No!” She reached out and put a hand on Bethany’s shoulder. “No, B, it isn’t! Jesus, I thought you were straight! I’ve been flirting with you for weeks and all you could do was talk about Vega. What was I supposed to think? When Williams told me about you wanting to go and fight… yeah, I came up here to find you to talk you out of it. Because I’m crazy about you! I’ve been crazy about you forever, but you never flirted back!”

“Yes I did!”

“Then you really suck at flirting, B.”

“Hey! Ok… actually, I really do. But I’m not going to change my mind if you sleep with me.”

Sarah looked down at her fingers, twining them together and pulling at her knuckles, “I know. I know you won’t.” She looked up into Bethany’s eyes and said, “But if you’re going to go out there and fight, I’m not going to let you go without showing you how I feel.”

She leaned forward again and kissed Bethany. She put all of her fear and desperation into the kiss, hoping that the moment hadn’t died while they spoke. To her relief, Bethany kissed back with equal passion. Sarah moved to climb back onto Bethany’s lap, but the other woman pulled away again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… I just.” Bethany looked around for something to latch onto in order to quiet the pounding between her legs. She failed, so she finally admitted, “If you keep doing that… with your… I’m going to…”

The penny finally dropped and Sarah smiled with a hint of pride, “Oh… I see.”

Sarah reached forward and got a grip on the belt at Bethany’s waist. She flipped it open and worked the button and zipper. She pushed Bethany back against the chair with the movement of her body and a deep, sensuous kiss. She slid her hand under the waistband of Bethany’s underwear. Bethany’s eyes rolled back and she let out a long breath as Sarah’s fingers moved lightly over her swollen clit to settle in her wet folds.

“Is that ryncol in your lap or are you just happy to see me?”

They laughed, though Bethany’s was unsteady. The pounding in her sex had magnified to an alarming degree with Sarah’s hand down there. She could already feel her inner walls twitching in anticipation of her long awaited orgasm.

“God, B! If I knew you wanted me this bad I would have pinned you against a wall a month ago.”

The visual in addition to the fingers caressing her between her slick folds made her body shiver. She was determined not to embarrass herself, but she couldn’t think how as Sarah settled in above her. Bethany looked down and saw Sarah’s hand buried inside her pants as her hips settled against Bethany’s thigh. Sarah started teasing her entrance, pressing a fingertip against the muscle there without entering her. Her hips started a subconscious rhythm against Bethany’s thigh, and she saw her answer. Clearly, Sarah was close herself.

With shaking hands, Bethany reached for Sarah’s belt and pulled it open. She smiled up at Sarah, whose mouth had dropped open ever so slightly as her breathing hitched. Bethany got the belt open and then the button, but she struggled with the zipper. Sarah angled her hips just right, and Bethany finally had it out of the way. She thrust her hand in. Her hand had been a little cold from the chill of the night, and when her fingertip slipped over the burning heat of Sarah’s clit the woman gasped and pressed into her. Bethany was relieved beyond words to find that Sarah was absolutely dripping for her.

Sarah’s movements had stilled momentarily as Bethany worked, but now she pressed two fingers inside Bethany and gently moved forward. Bethany tilted her hips and pushed Sarah deeper into her. At the same time she started slow, tight circles over Sarah’s swollen clit. They were both slightly drunk and clumsy with desire, so it took a few moments to find a workable rhythm. Soon, however, they were moaning each other’s names and rocking into each other’s hands with desperation.

In between kisses, Sarah looked down and was met with the same delicious sight that had inspired Bethany earlier. The sight of their hands working each other despite being fully clothed was enough to push her over the edge. She cried out into the still night and felt every muscles in her body tense and then burst with release. The intensity of her orgasm had stilled her hand inside Bethany, but her work had been done. Through the near silence caused by the blood pounding in her ears, she heard Bethany scream her name and felt her fluttering and contracting around her fingers. They lay panting in each other’s arms for a long time before Sarah removed her fingers and Bethany shifted her body on the chair. Sarah dropped down gratefully into the space that she had cleared and rested her head on the sweat dampened shoulder of Bethany’s fatigues.

They lay there silently for a long moment, breathing in the smell of each other and catching their breaths. Sarah looked up and saw Bethany smiling into the night sky. She shifted her gaze and was struck by the novelty Bethany had seen earlier, sky cars zipping by and the roofs of far off buildings rather than stars.

Bethany’s dog tags had come free from under her shirt at some point and lay glinting on her chest. Sarah raised her hand to the metal and pressed her fingertips into the letters stamped on them. She tried to read them through the touch like a blind person reading braille, but the bumps and dips were unfamiliar to her. Bethany pulled her close with both arms.

“Hey B?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m very proud of you.”

There was a long moment of silence. The rise and fall of Bethany’s chest hitched for a moment then corrected. She squeezed Sarah in her arms and nodded.

    

 


	3. Liara and Sam

Liara had bought a case of the dry red wine that the Armali region of Thessia was famous for and had it delivered to Shepard’s apartment in anticipation of the party. The wine was so dark it was almost black, and was praised throughout the galaxy as a potent aphrodisiac. Most species considered anything of asari origins an aphrodisiac, of course, but this wine was prized even among the asari for its seductive powers. Liara knew, for instance, that Aria T’loak kept several hundred bottles of it on hand at her private quarters on the Citadel. Quarters that were locked to everyone other than Aria and Councilor Tevos.

Liara’s intent was to ensure that at least a bottle of the liquid made its way past Samantha’s lips tonight. They had been so busy that there were precious few opportunities for the two of them to be alone together, and Liara was feeling stretched thin with both stress and desire. Watching the generous curves of Samantha’s hips a shoulders sway in time to the music as they stood in the kitchen with a handful of their friends was driving Liara mad. She wanted to press her lips to those curves. Every single one of them. She would scream for the slightest taste of that woman’s mouth.

At the moment, however, it seemed that Liara’s plan had backfired. When they went to the kitchen, Tali had immediately stood between the two women. Liara was trapped in the corner of the counter, watching Samara flirt outrageously with Samantha. It was absolutely incredible! Samara, as a justicar, should lack interest in… the desires of the flesh. Yet she was showing quite a lot of flesh to her girlfriend, who was showing not a small amount of desire. Liara’s blood boiled.

“And then I tried to eat some of the dextro cheese upstairs and I just feel awful. I cannot imagine what is wrong with me. I must be fighting some small infection. Perhaps I should increase my dose of antibiotics?”

Liara wasn’t listening that closely to what Tali was saying, but she had found on the first Normandy that she could get by with nodding and making noises as though she were interested. Tali did talk quite a lot, and she was energetic enough in her conversation to make a second party optional. Garrus was hovering at her shoulder, looking guilty and worried. Liara couldn’t be bothered to wonder why, since Samara was wandering off to flirt shamelessly with some other hapless victim. She excused herself from Tali and took the bottle of wine over to where Sam was standing alone and with an empty glass.

“Need a refill?”

She tried to sound casual, despite wanting to slither after the justicar and explode her to tiny pieces with a biotic flare.

“Yes, please! Although…” Sam said, holding out her glass and watching Liara fill it through her eyelashes. “This is going straight to my head. If you aren’t careful, I may have to drag a certain asari off to one of these bedrooms soon.”

Liara filled her own glass and avoided Samantha’s eye, replying, “Just be sure you grab the right one.”

“Hmm?” Samantha responded, her eyebrows coming together in confusion. Liara shot a glance in Samara’s direction, and Sam said, “Oh, she was just trying to be nice. I think she saw that I was feeling a little out of place with so many of Shepard’s old friends here.”

Liara tutted impatiently and took a long drink from her glass, the wine warming her from her lips to the bottom of her stomach, “Please. You’ve been on the Normandy since it left Earth. That woman only strutted on board just before Shepard hit the Collectors. She was the last squad member Shepard recruited. She barely had time to waggle her hips onto the observation deck before they blew up the Collectors and she was shuttled back off again.”

Sam smiled at the indignation in Liara’s voice and petted her forearm, which was resting on the marble counter. The movement, though light and over the thick sleeve of her leather coat, caused Liara’s skin to tingle. A flush crept under her collar and she wondered vaguely if she had drunk a little too much wine too quickly. Sam wasn’t sure exactly why her girlfriend had reacted so negatively to the justicar, but she enjoyed seeing the fire in those ice blue eyes.

Shepard walked over to their group, and there was some light banter about the first Normandy. Sam again mentioned her feelings of inferiority in the group. Shepard smiled at her and told her that she was an important member of the team. Shepard and Sam kept eye contact for a bit too long, and Liara’s blood started to boil again. When Shepard turned to Tali and Garrus, Liara pulled Samantha away to a darker corner by a water feature.

“What is it? Is everything okay?” Samantha’s face was alight with concern, but Liara had trouble believing the innocence in those eyes.

“I… wanted you to myself for a moment.”

Sam smiled wickedly and leaned back, farther into the shadows. She glanced around, making sure they could not be seen before replying, “And now that you have me here, what do you plan to do with me?”

Liara’s nerve endings crackled. She could feel the wine in her blood, and the edges of her eyes started to turn black. She set her glass down on the edge of a potted plant and moved her body close to Sam’s. She could feel the human’s breath catch ever so slightly, and she lowered her face so that their lips were inches apart. Sam closed her eyes in anticipation of contact, her chest rising, causing their breasts to press together.

Liara purred in that particular way that asari can in order to seduce the helpless. She moved her lips across Samantha’s so that they just barely brushed together. She could feel a throbbing in her brain as her mind pressed against its natural barriers, aching to latch on to the other that was so sensually near. Sam’s tongue darted out and ran along Liara’s lower lip. She caught the tongue with her lips and sucked lightly on it, then bit down slightly and released it. Sam panted and tried to press their bodies together, reaching out with her hips, yearning for contact. Liara kept space between them, wanting to tease and entice. Wanting to make sure Sam’s body was begging for hers all night while so many temptations surrounded her.

She moved her lips away from Sam’s, who whimpered at having lost out on her kiss. She moved her mouth down the line of the human’s jaw, making sure to breathe on her, feeling the little hairs stick up. She moved down her neck, watching with delight as the human craned her neck, inviting the kisses she must by now know that she would not get. When she got to the soft swell of where Sam’s neck met her shoulders, she could feel the body underneath her quiver uncontrollably. She hovered there, building the anticipation and ensuring that the human craved her touch more than anything else.

Finally, Sam could not take it anymore, and she whimpered, “Liara…” Stretching out every syllable in her agony.

Liara let her tongue run slowly out through her lips and meet the flesh of Sam’s shoulder. She heard the gasp at contact, and dragged her tongue up the line of the woman’s long neck. She licked past the curve of her jaw and up until she reached her plump earlobe. There she retracted her tongue and bared her teeth, clamping them over the fleshy lobe. Simultaneously, she pressed the full length of her body against Samantha’s, her hand in the small of the woman’s back, forcing them together.

Samantha groaned and slipped her hands under the back of Liara’s jacket, grabbing on to the firm swell of the asari’s ass with both hands. Liara released her earlobe and darted her tongue into the human’s ear, tracing up the shell with the wet tip. Her other hand kneaded at Samantha’s breast through the many layers of her Alliance uniform.

“Oh my… Liara, what has gotten in to you?”

Liara remembered the lascivious look in the justicar’s eyes as she talked to Samantha. She suddenly felt the need to mark her territory. She dropped her mouth back to the exposed neck beneath her and bit hard. The hands on her ass gripped tighter, and there was a hiss of pain from the human. The hiss brought her back to herself, and she released the now red flesh.

“Sam! I’m sorry, I…” But as she looked into the human’s eyes she saw an excitement she had not seen there before.

One of Sam’s hands went to the back of her neck and pulled her into a passionate kiss. As their tongues met, Sam’s fingers began caressing her crest. The feel of those delicate fingers tracing the lines and sensitive ridges made her pelvis shoot forward, desperate for firmer contact.

There was a scuffling noise behind them, and the two broke apart. They had forgotten where they were, and Liara was surprised to find her hands toying with the latches of Samantha’s uniform vest. She dropped them quickly and turned. The sight was not exactly one she would want to see.

Dr. Chakwas had pushed Zaeed against the side of the staircase leading to the second floor. Her left hand was gripping tight at the shoulder of his armor. Her right held the bottle of turian brandy she had confiscated after her own Serrice ice brandy was consumed earlier in the night. The disturbing part was that her mouth was on his in a very sloppy version of a passionate kiss. Considering that he was slowly sliding down the side of the wall, Zaeed may have been too drunk to notice how uncoordinated the doctor was being.

She broke the kiss and said, “My quarters in the medical suite. Now. I’ll get a transport back to the docking bay.”

He grunted affirmation and the two left without ever having noticed the two shocked women in the corner.

“Um… well… that was…”

“A mood killer,” Samantha agreed. She ran a long finger over Liara’s jaw and added, “Let’s get back to the party. For now. Later…”

Her eyebrow went up suggestively, and Liara smiled back. She noticed that the red bruise from her bite was starting to purple slightly, and the imprint of at least a couple of her teeth were still visible.

 

*****

 

Just under an hour later, Liara’s mood had soured again. While Samara had kept her wanton hips at a distance, now Liara seemed to have Jack to deal with. Shepard, who smelled like she had spilled as much whiskey on herself as had she had drunk, brought the colorful young woman over to introduce to Samantha. Liara had met her briefly back on Hagalaz, and had thought she was, to use a term she had heard her mother use on occasion ‘frightfully underbred’. Of course this had come from a distinctly upper class woman who had bucked all convention to have a pure blood child with a foul mouthed bartender.

Samantha had provided the intelligence that had saved Grissom Academy from Cerberus, and so saved Jack’s life. Apparently, Jack thought a proper thank you involved sexual aggressiveness. Typical.

“Ah, so you’re the one who helped save my kids. Well, I see you are more than a pretty face. A pretty face with a hell of an ass.”

Samantha had smiled and batted her eyelashes, “Um… thank you. It was my pleasure.”

Jack leaned in close and Samantha smiled. In her mind, Liara ripped every piece of tattooed flesh off of the woman in half inch strips over the course of several weeks. She broke every bone in the skinny woman’s body. She could feel herself leaning forward in what was most likely an inappropriately aggressive manner. Shepard’s hand landed hard on her shoulder.

“How are you enjoying the party, Liara?”

She loosened her grip on the wine glass in her hand just in time for it not to shatter into a million pieces. To cover the silence, she drank deeply from the glass. A moment later Shepard was refilling it from the nearby bottle. She replied through clenched teeth, “It’s lovely.”

Shepard’s grin was the goofy, clueless kind, “Sorry, Liara, didn’t catch that?”

Ashley lead Miranda toward the group, and Liara noticed that the ex-Cerberus agent looked rather put out by the play between Sam and Jack. Jack put her hand on Samantha’s shoulder, and Liara nearly screamed. Her body was quivering with anger. Samantha turned away and Jack’s hand fell back to her side.

Shepard spoke again, but the ringing in Liara’s ears made her sound far away, “Did you notice that mark on Sam’s shoulder? It looks painful. I hope she didn’t get that in the fight with my clone.”

The reminder about the mark she had left soothed Liara’s anger enough for her to respond, “I’m sure she’s fine. She was pretty far away from the battle, you remember. It must be from something else.”

Ashley walked up to Shepard and wrapped an arm around her waist, “Hmmm… you must be right. What do you think of the place, Miranda?”

Miranda, it appeared, was far too distracted by the women flirting outrageously in front of her. She responded, “Yes, Shepard. It is a lovely party.”

Ashley looked pointedly at Jack and Samantha and leaned to whisper something in Shepard’s ear. She followed the marine’s gaze and raised an eyebrow. Ashley had clearly orchestrated the entire scene, trying to get Samantha and Jack together. And she had considered Ashley a friend. Well, if this was the kind of loyalty she could expect from her… The woman in question took Shepard by the hand and led her over to a couch, where they sprawled out like lovers. Obviously they were pleased with their matchmaking. Well, if that’s what they thought of Samantha’s taste in women…

Liara could not contain her anger and betrayal. She turned on her heel and marched away. She had no clear sense of where she was headed, but soon found herself on a deserted balcony upstairs. She purposefully positioned herself so that she could neither hear nor see the interaction of the women downstairs. She leaned against a wall with a truly horrible painting on it and sipped her wine. She let her anger fester. Her head spun with the wine, and she drank more just because she knew she shouldn’t. Footsteps came down the hall behind her, but she knew she could not be seen by anyone coming from that direction.

“Sorry, EDI, but I have to talk to Shepard. It’s important.”

“I believe there is a long established tradition of extended physical contact between two persons following sexual…”

“You mean cuddling? Yeah, EDI, if you researched that you must have found out that dudes don’t do cuddling.”

“That is a myth perpetuated by… oh, excuse me Specialist Traynor.”

Liara froze when she heard that name. Her body went rigid with anger. She brought her glass to her lips and found it was empty, but she tipped it back anyway, coaxing the last drop from the bottom of the glass. Then she turned blazing eyes on her girlfriend. Sam, in contrast to her own feelings, was smiling happily and walking with a drunken hop in her step.

“There you are! I was…looking for you.” She came up short when she saw the look on Liara’s face. “What is it?”

Liara’s eyes flashed with rage and she turned, trying to control her emotions. Samantha walked up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong Liara?”

Liara turned, her anger flashing up in her stomach, “I’m surprised you came to find me. I was sure you’d have dragged Jack off to some dark corner by now.”

Samantha’s face showed genuine shock, “What? Me drag her off? You didn’t notice how I was trying to get her to leave me alone the whole time she was pawing at me?”

“Oh don’t give me that, you were clearly encouraging her!”

“I most certainly was not!”

Liara huffed and walked past her, no destination in mind, just trying to avoid her presence. Samantha, however, followed her.

“Liara.” She kept walking.

“Liara!” She ignored the plea in the voice.

“Bloody hell, woman!” Samantha grabbed her upper arm and pulled her roughly through a door, slamming it shut behind them.

Liara stumbled on the carpet and turned on the human, who had crossed her arms across her chest and wore a look of determination. “I beg your pardon, but the asari are a mono gendered race! Perhaps you are mistaking me with the human woman who has been drooling…”

“Enough!” Liara came up short at the barked command. She crossed her arms and put her weight on one hip, glaring.

Samantha seemed to calm down a little. She uncrossed her arms and walked towards her girlfriend, passing the open door to a large walk in closet, “Not to interrupt your asari anatomy lesson, but you may recall that I am quite familiar with asari anatomy.” She moved close to Liara and looked at her with a provocative smile, “One might even say… intimately familiar.”

Liara blushed purple despite herself, but the anger coiled in her like a snake would not be gotten rid of so easily.

Samantha continued, “I have no idea what has caused you to be so upset with me, but I gave no encouragement to that crass, tattooed woman. I have, however,” She leaned in, pressing her breasts against Liara’s crossed arms and placing a wet kiss on her neck, just below her crest. She knew how sensitive that spot was, and was pleased to feel a tiny shiver run through the asari, her arms loosening their grip on each other by a fraction. “Given _you_ a great deal of encouragement.”

Something inside Liara snapped, and she moved with the fluidity of her race. In a heartbeat she had both of Samantha’s wrists in a firm grip, and she slammed her back against the nearby wall. Samantha made contact with a sharp intake of breath that was only enhanced when Liara slammed her body into her as well. She pinned the specialist’s wrists against the wall by her ears and pressed their lips together firmly. Though she knew Sam would willingly accept her tongue, she did not give her time, forcing her lips apart and shoving her tongue inside the other woman’s mouth. The kiss was fierce, possessive. Samantha kissed back with equal intensity, trying to show her willingness.

Liara released her from the kiss and kept her face threateningly close, hissing, “You are mine. No amount of flirting with any person at this party will change that.”

Samantha shook her head sharply, not trusting her voice. Something in the aggressiveness of the asari made her whole body weak with desire. Liara had been completely unexperienced when she had come to Sam, and so she had been tender and hesitant. She always allowed Sam to take the lead, depending on her experience as a guide. This Liara was confident and assertive and utterly intoxicating. The grip she exerted on Sam’s wrists was unbreakable, and the vulnerability of her position was blindingly erotic. She surrendered to it fully.

Liara bent her head and bit sharply into Samantha’s neck just below her ear. She groaned as her body filled with desire. She squirmed, wanting Liara to press against her, to grind their hips together. Liara kept their bodies apart and growled a warning, stilling Samantha’s attempts. Biotics flared in the hands that had her wrists pinned, and twin fields of blue flame held her hands in place, allowing Liara to release her.

She took a step back and started tearing at Samantha’s clothes. She heard ripping fabric and saw a clasp from her vest fall to the carpeted floor. Cold air touched her stomach as Liara opened her vest and shirt. With her hands pinned, they could not be removed all together, but this did not seem to trouble Liara. She immediately leaned in and bit the top, fleshy area of Sam’s right breast above her bra. Samantha’s skin burned and she threw her head back, closing her eyes so she could allow the pleasure to wash over her.

“Oh, Liara… yes, please god…”

Liara grabbed her chin and forced her face back down. Samantha opened her eyes in surprise and saw the anger flash in Liara’s eyes again, “Watch me. Watch me claim you. You are mine.”

Samantha’s eyes were wide with desire as she watched Liara pull her bra up, allowing her large breasts to fall out underneath. She scooped up one and claimed the nipple in her mouth, sucking hard.

“Oh, god, yes! Oh, Liara… I’m yours.”

Liara didn’t raise her head, but she released Sam long enough to growl, “Say it again!”

“I belong to you, Liara. I am yours to take. Please…”

Her words ended in a moan as Liara took her nipple again, flicking her tongue over the swollen bud, causing Sam to jerk. She moved to the other breast, leaving the first to harden in the cold air. The feel of Liara’s mouth on her and the intensity of her jealously were driving Samantha wild. She knew that Liara’s feelings were genuine and real from their few nights alone, but this savage need to claim her showed a desperation that had not been even hinted at yet.

Jealous behavior had previously been a turn off in Sam’s relationships. She had dated a woman when she was in university who was constantly jealous of people in Sam’s life. The relationship had been accompanied by a constant undercurrent of shaming and mistrust. The behavior itself coming from her partners’ lack of self-worth, but the atmosphere made Sam feel bad about herself. When she had finally ended the toxic relationship, it had taken her some time to see that she had done nothing to deserve the treatment. She had allowed the other woman to shame her.

This reaction from Liara felt, by contrast, more like an inexperienced woman seeing her partner as an object of desire for other people for the first time. Sam relished feeling desired with such intensity by the asari who was so incredibly desirable herself. She tried, with each sound and each movement to express to Liara how much she wanted her.        

Suddenly, Liara released her and took several steps back. She cocked her hip and put one hand to her chin. Sam whimpered at the loss of her touch. Liara stood back and allowed her eyes to travel over the length of the captive body before her. Her skin hummed. Her mind pressed against its confinement with a throbbing insistence that perfectly matched the throb between her legs. There were times when she was with Samantha that she felt out of her depth. She felt lost in the sea of their shared touches. She had no experience and Samantha had so much. She yearned to feel equal to the seductive woman that had come to mean so much to her. Now, with that woman pinned to the wall, parts of her body bared, Liara felt more on a level with her.

“Liara, please… come back…”

The begging tugged at something very deep and primal in her. She smirked. Slowly, pulling on one leather finger at a time, she removed her gloves and dropped them to the floor. She began to unbuckle her coat, and saw Samantha’s chest heaving with labored breaths. She dropped the coat to the ground and raised her feet onto the edge of the bed next to her, unlacing her boots with precision rather than speed. When her boots were off, she pulled her shirt over her head and followed them with her bra. She was careful to keep her front facing Sam as she did this, making sure she saw every patch of flesh revealed.

Liara could feel the cold air stiffening her nipples, and happily noted that Sam’s eyes were glued to the sight. The hunger in those eyes made the muscles of her stomach clench with anticipation. She unbuckled her belt so slowly that Samantha groaned and tugged at the biotic fields holding her hands. They did not budge a centimeter. When the belt was loose, she shimmied out of pants and underwear together. She could feel the shimmering wetness on her upper thighs, but kept her gaze glued to Sam.

“Please… you are killing me… come over here and touch me before I lose my mind!”

Liara swayed her hips with almost indecent pleasure as she stepped forward, “Since you asked so… very… nicely.”

As she passed the corner of the bed, she noticed something just peeking out from under the bedskirt. She had no idea what it was, but she decided it was the perfect excuse to tease Sam with the little surprise Liara had for her. She moved until she stood just out of Sam’s reach and then moved her eyes to the object.

“Whatever do you think that could be? Here, let me see…” As she said the last words, she spun on her heel and bent down to retrieve the object. She had the advantage here as she knew, through careful observation and a very interesting conversation just over a week ago, that her girlfriend was an ‘ass girl’ as she charmingly put it. Samantha’s great weakness was a well-rounded butt. She stared and drooled over them the way that most men drool over breasts.

She did not, strictly speaking, go for anal sex. That wasn’t her fascination. It was the feel of a woman’s firm cheeks against her hips. The graceful slope of soft muscle meeting at thigh and lower back. One of the first parts of Liara’s anatomy that she was attracted to was her toned and firm butt.

Now Liara was bent over in front of her, the object of her desire so close she could almost, but not quite touch it. A sharp ache of desire hit her so hard she cried out almost in pain. It was more than just her favorite ass in the world so close to her, there was a new addition to it. While most people knew that many asari tattooed their faces as adornments to their beauty, only those who were intimate with an asari would see that they occasionally marked other areas as well. Much like human tattoos, asari tattoos could be placed anywhere and everywhere.

Sam now saw that Liara had a new set of markings on her back, just above the slope of her cheeks. White lines looped and swerved over her lower back, bracketing her hips and diminishing as they rose up her spine. It was a delicate pattern, and it was most assuredly intended to enhance the sight below.

Sam’s mind exploded with need. She pulled so hard at the biotic fields holding her hands that her wrists ached and creaked as the bones rubbed together. She did not feel the pain. She could think of nothing else but putting her hands on those hips. Tracing the lines of the markings with fingertips and tongue. It hit her quite suddenly that Liara had marked her own body to please her. She had tattooed herself for Sam’s pleasure, and the enormity of that gift constricted her chest. The lines of white on blue swam in front of her and she realized she had tears in her eyes. She would do anything for this woman. She would run to the ends of the galaxy if she asked.

Liara stood and turned to look over her shoulder. She was blushing a little and the light dust of purple on those cheeks made Sam’s heart thump. She said quietly, “You approve of my new markings? I got them the last time we docked here at the Citadel. I thought you might appreciate them.”

Sam managed to nod rather awkwardly. Her mouth was too dry for words. It seemed all the moisture in her body had moved to lower ground.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you keep struggling like that, my dear.”

Sam realized she was still struggling with the biotics. Her wrists were turning red from the struggle. She wondered if one could bruise from biotics, and decided it was likely.

“Perhaps I should relieve some of your suffering.”

Sam had hoped she would release the fields. Even just one so that she could touch the woman before her. Instead, she took a long backward step. Their bodies met softly, far too softly for Sam’s liking. Then Liara canted her hips back and her ass ground hard into Sam’s still clothed pelvis. She moaned and threw her head back so hard that she knocked the back of her skull into the wall and shouted in pain.

Liara dropped all pretense and spun, gripping Sam’s face in her hand, worry etched on her features, “Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Sam’s head spun, as much from her still fresh desire as from the blow to the head. She grunted and blushed, “Smooth, Traynor. Very smooth. Nothing quite so sexy as a mild concussion.”

Liara laughed and stroked the woman’s face with her finger. This brought Sam back to the moment and she smiled weakly, “I may actually have a concussion, you know. You should let me go so I can lay down. You know… take it easy.”

The wicked smirk returned to the asari’s face and she said, “Oh I think not.” Her hand fell from Traynor’s face to her belt, attempting to release it one handed. She still held the object she had retrieved from under the bed, and Sam noticed it for the first time.

“Liara, what is that?”

She finally was able to unbuckle the belt, and looked at her other hand. She blushed again and explained, “I think perhaps we were not the first to use this room tonight.”

Sam brought her eyebrows together, “Hmm?”

“It is a tube of smooth metal lubricant. And it is only half full. I think perhaps Joker and…”

“Do not, whatever you do, finish that sentence. I do not want to have that image in my mind at the moment.”

Liara smiled and tossed the tube into a corner. Now that both of her hands were free, she was able to unbutton and unzip Traynor’s pants. She slipped one hand between the pants and underwear and was greeted with very wet fabric. Her fingers swirled patterns over the bulge from Sam’s hair, and then moved lower. Sam gasped but was careful not to throw her head back as Liara’s fingers moved over her swollen clit. Even through the fabric, the touch was maddening. She bucked her hips forward, eager for a firmer touch to relieve her suffering. Liara let the flat of her palm press hard on the spot for just a moment before bringing her hand back out. Sam’s eyes were hooded and her breathing was fast.

Liara dropped to her knees and started unlacing Samantha’s boots. Sam swallowed hard and tried to collect her fraying edges. She still sometimes found it hard to believe that this incredible specimen would want her. Liara had little experience in lovemaking, but she was a quick learner. Moreover, for the first time in Sam’s life, she was far more interested in her partner for her mind and her humor than for her body. It was quite the body, to be sure, but her wit was intoxicating and not a little intimidating.

Liara removed her boots and socks, and then started pulling off her pants. Sam tried to help as much as possible, but Liara seemed to want control of this moment. Sam was all too willing to give it to her. She was so taken with the idea of being in Liara’s control. Liara soon had her out of pants and underwear, and she felt a moment of embarrassment at just how wet she was. Liara, by contrast, was visibly thrilled with the effect she had on the specialist.

“You’re so wet for me. Mmmm… I can’t wait for a taste.”

Liara dove in, burying her face in the patch of hair between Sam’s legs. She breathed deep of the rich, musky scent trapped there before flicking her tongue out to tease at Sam’s clit. Liara had a secret love of hair. Since asari had none, to find this little forest guarding her lover’s opening was a shock and a treat when they had first made love. Now Liara rewarded herself with the feel of the wiry hair and smells it trapped as often as she could.

Her need was too great to indulge tonight, however. After a brief visit, she continued on to the more evocative areas between Sam’s thighs. She licked over Sam’s clit, making patterns on the swollen nub and eliciting a variety of sounds. Sam angled her hips, giving Liara as much access as she could muster, then she threw a leg over her shoulders, opening herself wide. Liara moved quickly to the swollen lips and explored. Sam was so sensitive that even a touch of Liara’s tongue on her outer lips made the woman moan. Sticky wetness poured from her, and Liara moved to her opening. She teased her tongue in and out gently, then thrust as deeply inside as she could go. Sam ground into her, her breathing close to hyperventilation.

“Please, Liara… please… I need you so bad.”

She decided to take pity on the woman, and moved back to her bud. As she licked hard at her clit, she slipped a finger into Sam’s opening. Her inner walls gripped at her finger, the heat of her core radiating. Liara slipped a second finger inside, and now the walls began to clench around her. She started a rhythm with her fingers to match her tongue. She taste and smell and feel of Sam was starting to make Liara’s own body throb, and she squeezed her thighs together, hoping to relieve some of the ache there. Samantha’s moans became more regular and Liara’s mind became too insistent to ignore. She released her thoughts from the confines of her own self and allowed them to wrap around Samantha.

Through the haze of her pleasure, Sam felt the touch of Liara’s mind on her own. It was like a lover’s hand caressing her brain, and she opened herself to the touch. Liara usually warned her or asked permission, but Sam had always found this strange. There was no discomfort or pain involved in the meld. It was like any other intimate touch, and she had already given Liara permission for that. Now she felt the emotions that were not her own, but rather a mirror image of hers, wrap around her heart, and it felt so right and so warm. The comfort of it made her whimper with relief, as though she had waited for this as much as the physical sensation all night.

She felt Liara’s presence in her mind, but she also felt all of her sensations. The feeling of both being the tongue and being touched by the tongue was overwhelming. She felt herself tumbling towards ecstasy, and she looked down at Liara’s body. She saw the markings on her lower back again and her heart swelled with the pride of being worthy of such an amazing woman. Her orgasm knocked her back against the wall with a scream. She felt Liara’s strong hands hold her hips in place as she came. She thought that her knees might give way, and Liara responded by holding more of her weight on her shoulder. Samantha wondered how she knew, and then remembered the meld.

Liara slowed her rhythm and brought her back from her orgasm gently, easing her through the aftershocks until she was at ease again. The mind retracted from hers as Liara stood and kissed her gently. There was stickiness on her lips and chin and Samantha blushed at having caused it. Liara kissed her neck and smiled into the soft flesh there.

“Can you forgive me for this?” Liara asked, her finger tracing one of the bite marks she had left earlier. The spot was tender, and she licked at it to soothe the sting. The feel of Liara’s tongue on her neck made her shiver despite her release.

“I might be persuaded,” She said with a smile. Then her voice dropped to a more serious tone and she said, “Liara. You know you needn’t worry about anyone else. I am yours, dearest.”

Liara’s body tensed slightly and she nodded into Sam’s shoulder.

“Now, release these bloody fields so I can ravish you!”

Liara pushed away and lay face down on the bed, her new markings displayed to best advantage. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled at Sam, who took a moment to realize that she was free. She quickly shed herself of vest, shirt and bra, all of which were still hanging open from her body. She shook out her hands, trying to get the blood back into her fingers before she joined Liara on the bed. Liara slid onto her side and moved up to rest her head on the nest of pillows, watching her girlfriend. Sam smiled back in a distinctly goofy way, thunderstruck by the scene before her.

“That gives me a lovely idea.” She said as she moved around the bed behind Liara. “Don’t move a muscle.”

“What are you…” Liara began to ask as Sam slid onto the bed behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. She pulled Liara back to her, her breasts pressing into Liara’s back. “Oh…” Liara’s word was little more than a whisper. Sam pushed her pelvis forward so that Liara’s butt was pressed deliciously into her spent sex.

She took Liara’s top leg and pulled it back over her own, opening her lover up to her hand, which slid over the blue hip. Samantha kissed and licked at all of the sensitive spots of Liara’s crest even as her hand slid between the asari’s legs. Her fingers deliberately missing her clit to delve into her wet folds. Liara gasped at the first touch and spread her legs wider. Sam dipped into her core briefly and then moved back up her, this time honing in on her throbbing bud. Liara was particularly sensitive to that firm touch on her clit and she moaned Sam’s name as the woman rubbed circles over her. As Sam teased her, she pushed her ass back into the human, knowing that the feel would drive her lover wild. She was rewarded when Sam began to grind against her, small grunts of pleasure now coming from both women. Sam found it difficult to keep both the rhythm of her hand and her hips, so she was forced to abandon her own pleasure for Liara’s. The asari was having none of it, though, and took over the action of their hips. She reached a hand around and gripped hard at Sam’s back, making sure the contact was firm enough.

Liara began to moan, and her mind reached out of its own accord, drawing Sam willingly into the meld. With her own need somewhat satisfied, Sam was able to direct thoughts and feelings toward Liara in her mind. She opened her memories to the asari. Memories of her annoyance with Jack for interrupting her conversation with Liara. Memories of how she plowed through a tedious conversation with Samara in order to try and learn more about asari culture and laws. She had wanted to know more about the race without having to constantly ask her girlfriend. She tried to show her how her thoughts and desires were always with Liara and Liara alone. Unfortunately, the reassurances she was giving were causing the asari in question to dedicate herself more fully to their shared pleasure and she was having a harder time focusing.

_I trust in you, Samantha. You don’t have to show me. Please forgive me for how I acted, I cannot imagine what came over me._

_Would you think less of me if I admitted that I rather enjoyed it?_

_I… Really?_

_I love you, Liara._

_I love you too, Sam._

The mutual declaration was enough to send them both, crying out in bliss, over the edge. They came, rocking into each other and wrapped tightly together, body and mind. Within moments they fell asleep, exhausted and content.

 

 


	4. Ash and Shep

Ashley dropped Shepard's hand as the door to the master bedroom slid smoothly open.  She continued on as Shepard turned and keyed the code in to lock the door.  As she hit the last sequence, she heard a muffled pop behind her from the vicinity of the bathroom.  
  
She followed the sound, unhooking her uniform vest as she went.  Had she really thought about it, she probably should have worn civvies tonight.  It would have been a great opportunity to show off the N7 hoodie EDI had gotten her.  But Shepard had long ago embraced the fact that she was a soldier, through and through.  Wearing an Alliance uniform, whether she was on ship or not, had always felt like an honor rather than an obligation.  She was never one of those soldiers who longed for shore leave so that she could wear normal clothes and pretend to be a normal person.  She felt at home in her BDU's, and she suspected she always would.  
  
As she passed the wide doors of the walk in closet, she tossed her vest onto the weapons bench.  The air in the bedroom felt suddenly cooler with a layer of clothing gone, and she held back a shiver that was equal parts chill and anticipation.  Proposing to Ash had felt so right.  The scattered blocks of her life were coming together to form a pattern she had never been willing to even dream of.  The most beautiful woman in the galaxy was going to be her wife.  She saw her future unfolding before her, the comfort of Ashley beside her on the battlefield and in life.  
  
The thought of fighting by Ash's side brought the inevitable reminder of the Reapers.  Not for the first time in the last several years, she felt torn between anger and gratitude that she was the one destined to save the galaxy.  At the moment, the anger was winning out.  She was honored to have this chance to serve the galaxy, but why couldn't she just have a normal life?  A happy ending?  Hadn't she earned that?  She remembered her promise to Ashley as the danced.  She would keep that promise, she decided.  If not for her own happy ending, for Ashley's.  
  
The jets of the hot tub hummed to life as she arrived at the door to the bathroom.  The cork from the champagne bottle was rocking back and forth lazily on the tile floor.  She stooped and picked it up.  The top had an anchor stamped into it.  For the centuries when humans had been bound to Earth and a naval ship was meant for the water, the anchor had been the symbol of the navy.  
  
"How appropriate," she murmured as she spun the cork between her fingers.  
  
As she stood, she looked into the bathroom.  The sight she beheld made her drop the cork.  Ashley was completely naked and leaning back against the broad countertop.  Steam from the roiling hot tub flowed up into the room, curling around her delicate feet and muscular calves.  She held the bottle of champagne to her lips and tipped it back, taking a long pull while keeping her eyes locked on Shepard.  The cold bottle was sweating in the humidity of the room, large beads forming on the egg yolk yellow label and sliding down between her fingers.  She dropped the bottle back slowly, but a trickle of the bubbly liquid spilled from between her smiling lips and trickled over her chin.  
  
Ashley held out the bottle, "Care for a taste?"  
  
It took everything Shepard had not to fall, whimpering to her knees.  She kicked off her boots and ripped her socks off.  Then she strode into the bathroom with as much dignity as the pounding between her legs would allow.  She pulled her shirt over her head as she moved, tossing it into a corner without bothering to see where it landed.  
  
She pressed her body hard into Ashley's warm skin, claiming her with a deep, possessive kiss.  Ashley's lips were full and soft, everything that Shepard remembered from the thousands they had shared, but all the sweeter tonight.  Not from the champagne, but from the fact that she had said yes.  She had agreed to live her life with Kennedy despite the fear and uncertainty of war and death.  Ash's hand slipped across her back and unhooked her bra in a single, deft movement.  Shepard's hands dropped below the swell of her ass to the tops of her thighs, she gripped tight and picked her lover up, depositing her gently on the very edge of the marble counter.  Ashley squeaked in surprise into her mouth, and Shepard smiled at the girly sound.  She gently spread Ashley's thighs apart and slid her body in the space, enjoying the feel of bare flesh against the thick weave of her fatigue pants.  Apparently Ashley appreciated it as well, she ground forward with her hips, pressing herself into the fabric.  
  
Shepard pulled back from the kiss and Ashley leaned back against the mirror.  She tipped the bottle back again with a laugh.  
  
"Well, commander, now that you have me up here, what were you planning on doing with me."  
  
Sheppard smirked and dropped to her knees, "I think I'll have that taste you offered."  
  
She leaned forward, her tongue painting a wet trail along Ashley's inner thigh.  As she neared her goal, Ash spread her thighs wider, allowing her full access.  Kennedy slipped her tongue out and slid it ever so lightly along Ashley's outer lips.  
  
The woman above her groaned, "That wasn't exactly what I meant, but you do have quite the debt to pay off..."

Shepard chuckled at the reminder, the vibrations of her laughter mixing with her deepening at her attentions to Ashley's core and causing a throaty moan from above.  She needed no further encouragement.  Her tongue explored with the same delicacy and insistence as her earlier kisses.  Each new flick of her tongue earning the most delicious noises from Ashley.  Soon the woman's hips were grinding forward, and Shepard focused all of her attention on her clit.  Ashley's breathing deepened and the muscles in her stomach clenched tellingly.  Her hand slid into Shepard's hair, and the desperation of her grip made her lover work all the harder for her pleasure.  Shepard could feel the press of her engagement ring against her scalp, and her heart swelled painfully.  Just when she thought her chest would burst, Ashley screamed her release and fisted a handful of Shepard's hair.  Her hips bucked wildly so that Shepard had to hold them in place or risk losing her prize.  
  
It was a long time before Ash relaxed her grip.  Finally, she sighed and lay back against the dripping mirror.  Her skin slid down the glass with an odd squeal.  Shepard stood, a self-satisfied grin splitting her features.  
  
"So, do you forgive me?"  
  
Ashley's eyes were closed, but her smile was constant, "Kennedy, we'll never be able to take our grandchildren to dinner at the site of our first date.  You are amazingly skilled, my love, but you're not good enough to make up for that yet."  
  
Shepard's lips trailed up the bunched muscles of her stomach.  
  
"You want to take our grandkids out for sushi?"  
  
Shepard's lips wrapped around the stiff bud of her nipple and her back arched up, "Ugh... You're missing the point..."  
  
Kennedy released the bud, letting her teeth graze over it and earning a sharp gasp from Ashley, "No, I'm pretty sure I got it..."  
  
"Oh god," Ashley moaned as her lips captured the other nipple.  "You infuriating... Impossible... Incredible woman." Shepard's hand slipped between her legs, "Fuck yes!  Mmmm... You have got to take those pants off.  Right. Now."  
  
Shepard slipped two fingers through her folds, hooking forward immediately and beginning a slow, tortuous rhythm with both her fingers and the thumb that settled over her swollen clit.  
  
"I hate to refuse any order you give me, baby, but I don't really feel like that would be the best use of my hands at the moment.  Do you?"  
  
Ashley's body rocked into the shared rhythm, taking Shepard as deep inside of her as she could, “Oh god yes!  I mean, no!  No, it isn't the best use of your... Christ, Shepard!"  
  
Kennedy leaned forward, pressing their bodies close and claiming Ashley's mouth again.  She fell into the kiss like a starving man on a banquet.  She pressed the length of their bodies together, feeling the rock-hard points of Shepard's nipples on her sweaty skin.  The feel of them reminded her of Shepard's own need, and she struggled to reach between her legs.  The distraction of Kennedy's expert touch nearly thwarted her attempts, but she was finally able to find the band of Shepard's pants.  
  
She fought with the belt for what felt like ages as the wonderful pressure inside her grew.  Her fingers trembled as they fought to open button and zipper.  When she was finally able to bury her hand under the soaked fabric of Shepard's underwear she sighed with relief.  Shepard's hand stilled and her body quivered above her as she started a punishing rhythm on the commander's clit.  Ashley could feel the tightly coiled tension in all of her muscles.  Obviously Shepard's need was immense, and so she focused her efforts on filling that need.  
  
Kennedy's breathing had become erratic, her hips grinding hungrily into Ashley's touch, before she remembered her own task.  Her hand started moving again, earning a cry of delight from her fiancée.  They found a rhythm together with ease.  They knew each other's bodies and preferences so well after their years together that moving together felt so right.  Like coming home.  
  
In the end, the feel of Shepard inside her was too much, and Ashley found her way to release first.  She sobbed from the pleasure and fought to maintain focus of her own hand.  She was desperate for Shepard to share the sweet release with her, and she wasn't far behind.  Kennedy dropped her face into Ashley's neck and cried out.  The sound was so close to pain that Ashley wrapped her arm around her beloved, holding her close as the spike of pleasure dissipated.  They shuddered in unison, rocking into each other when a strong aftershock hit them.  
  
Ashley stroked gently down Shepard's back.  The only sound in the room now was the gurgling of the hot tub and the ragged panting of her exhausted lover.  She watched the path of her fingertips over the tanned skin.  She refused to let her mind wander to the next day and the uncertainty.  She focused on the fact that Kennedy's lungs were gulping air.  Her heart was beating.  She was wrapped in Ashley's arms.  That was what mattered.  That was what she had.  
  
Shepard's voice was muffled by the flesh of Ashley's shoulder, "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"  
  
Ashley smiled, "Mmmmm... I hope I haven't worn you out already, commander."

Shepard pushed herself up with a groan, "I'm not quite begging for mercy yet."  
  
"That's good to hear.  It'd be a shame if the war comes to an end and the only one who got to use that hot tub was Traynor."


End file.
